Missing Pieces
by LittlestWish
Summary: Angelina attends Fred's funeral, to comfort the mourners, learns something she never knew, and finds that they aren't the only ones that need comfort. She learns that she and George have lost their other halves. G/A ONESHOT


It was a perfect day for Fred's funeral, with the skies pouring rain, like tears for the lost soul

It was a perfect day for Fred's funeral, with the skies pouring rain, like tears for the lost soul. She looked around at all the family members, the people that came out of _duty_ rather than because they needed to say goodbye. These were people he never associated with. But then there was the immediate family. She didn't feel close enough to Fred to sit by them, but to close to sit by these others. The rain fell on the on the mourners, and Angelina slowly made her way to the family to pay her respects. She found she had no words to express her sorrow at the loss of their son, the loss of the love of her life. She bit her lip, holding back tears. She knew if they began to fall, they wouldn't stop. She nodded to Mrs. and Mr. Weasley, whispering the only thing she could think of. "I'm sorry." She wished she could say more, but there was nothing left. They knew the look on her face, the pain of love lost. They nodded, and Mrs. Weasley enveloped her in a quick hug.

Angelina continued down the line, to the oldest brother, Bill. His face was tearstained, and red. He was slightly shaking, but nothing compared to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She tried again to say what she needed to say, and wasn't surprised when this time, even 'I'm sorry', couldn't leave her mouth. She wiped her eyes with a furious hand, making sure no tears escaped, and nodded to him. He returned the nod, though he was looking bitterly at the six foot hole where the coffin was suspended above. She nodded also to Fleur, who hung off Bill, and was sobbing into his shoulder. She bit a horrible comment back from her tongue as she watched Fleur cry. What right does she have to mourn him like that? She didn't even know him, Angelina wanted to cry. She doesn't have to put a brave face on, and she's the one acting as if she had lost a lover, a best friend.

Charlie stood next to his older brother, rage on his face, competing with the all consuming grief. He wanted to lash out at the world. Why did they have to take his brother? His fun loving carefree brother? Anyone in the world would have been okay, as long as it wasn't a brother. Heck, he wouldn't have minded if he were the one to die, if he didn't have to see his family like this, feel this horrible feeling. It was such a dreadful feeling, like a piece of the world had been torn away. Like the sky stopped being blue, and the grass green. His eyes flickered to where the twins should be standing, Angelina's eyes followed. Charlie let out a sob when he realized that the twins would never be two again, only one. He fixed his gaze on Angelina, and she wanted to reach out and comfort him, instead she settled for softly touching his arm. He looked at her startled, and she turned to the next mourner.

Next there was Percy. Her will to not let go nearly broke when she gazed at him. He was the one that had to watch him die. He was there. You could tell by his eyes. Fred had always said that his older brother was the biggest prat, but looking at him grieving she thought different. "I loved him, you know," She murmured, unsure if he could. He nodded slightly, and extended a hand to her. "You'll have to forgive me," She said lamely, not taking his hand, and turning around. She couldn't stay where those eyes were. Haunted with loss and sadness. They had seen too much, and the tears that flowed freely from those eyes she envied. She couldn't trust herself to cry. There was an empty pit in her stomach, and she felt as if she had lost her better half. She again wiped her eyes, exhaling with relief to find that not yet, no tears had fallen.

She realized she must look just right, Fred's love, standing there, unable to say anything, not even crying. The next person she had to see was George. Upon seeing her approach, he had wordlessly extended his arms. Without giving herself the opportunity to look him in the face, she entered his waiting embrace. The tears flowed freely from his eyes and hers too. They stood there, wordlessly embracing each other, holding each other up. It took all her willpower to look him in the face. When she had, she wished she hadn't. His eyes were empty of life, and his face was vacant, tearstained and holding trace of all the pain of the earth. She pressed her face against his chest, and sobbed freely. He allowed her to do this, burying his face in her soft hair. "I know it hurts," He said, "I know you'll miss him, Ang, we all will." He stopped for a moment, to allow the murmured words to sink in, "But he'd want us to go on with life. He'd want us to be happy." She continued to sob for a moment, before she looked up, "I j-just can't believe h-how much th-this hurts, G-George" She sniffed, "I m-m-miss him s-so much." George paused allowing the shaking girl to untangle herself from his own shaking body before he whispered, "I know you do. You're probably the only person here other than mum and dad that knew him as much as I did" He pressed a gentle kiss into her hair before adding, "This is too much for you, Ang, go home, Fred wouldn't want to see you so upset."

"I c-can't g-go home, George, b-because he'd w-want someone to b-be here with you." She said, looking down the line that was composed of four more persons, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Harry. Sending George an apologetic look to George, she quickly walked to them. Starting with Ron, she embraced him, and then held him at arms length. "I'm so sorry for you, I can't imagine what you're going through," Her voice was soft; she couldn't trust it for more volume, in fear it might crack. He looked at her, nodded but he contradicted her. "You sound like everyone else that's came here." He spat, angrily. "You say you can't imagine," Ron continued despite Hermione's silent pleading, "When you've lost him too. You loved him. So how come you can't imagine? Tell me how it's different!"

Angelina looked down at her feet, and cursed quietly. The tears came quicker now, at the words being flung at her. Ron, saw this, but didn't relent, "You probably didn't even know he bought you a bloody _ring_!" He exclaimed, his voice rising above the deadly whisper. "You probably didn't—"

"Please, Ron, please stop," Angelina begged, through tears and choking sobs.

He glared at her before finally saying, "You can do more than imagine. You're living it. Don't try and fool yourself." He lowered his voice so just Angelina could hear, "Just because George looks like him doesn't mean they were interchangeable. Don't fool yourself into thinking he's Fred. Fred's gone, and there's no way he can come back" His voice shook with these words, and Angelina nodded, though she had no intention of thinking that George was the man she loved. "Just, please, Ang, don't hurt George. He's hurting so much right now."

"I know."

Angelina took a deep breath, and walked to the next and final person she needed to see. Ginny face had been buried in Harry's jumper, but Harry whispered to her and she turned her face to Angelina. Without a second, Angelina knew that Ginny had been crying, even more than she herself had before she had arrived. Ginny was the only girl, and she had been raised like a boy from having six brothers. Boys don't cry. She wasn't supposed to either. "It's okay, Gin," She heard a sharp intake of breath from Ginny, but steadily continued, "He's… He's alright now,"

"He was alright before, Angelina! He was happy!" Her voice was quiet, and the anger that was in it, wasn't the same as Ron's. It wasn't directed to her. Angelina did the only thing that she could think of. She stepped closer to Ginny and wrapped her arms around her, glad that Harry had backed off a little.

Ginny cried into Angelina's shirt, much like Angelina had to George's. She cried for a brief moment before looking up at Angelina, "You're wearing his jumper."

Her voice was quiet, like she couldn't understand. "You are wearing Fred's _Christmas jumper._" She repeated. "Why are you wearing his jumper?"

"Oh, Gin, you know, he lent this to me ages ago, when we were still at school. I always meant to give it back, but I never got the chance." She paused, and added as an afterthought, "And now I never will."

Ginny sighed, and stepped away from Angelina. Now, Angelina had only one thing left to do. She walked quickly to the coffin, pulled out her wand and conjured a bouquet of white roses. "I love you Fred. These are just like the ones you gave to me our first Valentine." Her voice was lost in a crack of thunder and she laid down the flowers at the headstone, and walked away.

She returned home that night, dripping wet. She dried her clothes and waited for the storm to end. When it did, she returned to the cemetery, still wearing Fred's jumper. It had cleared out but one lone figure. "I imagined I'd find you here," Angelina said softly when George greeted her. Together they stood, gazing at the headstone and crying for most of the night, holding each other together. Having both lost half, they needed support.


End file.
